Opening shots: A life in brown chapter 2
by marcusr
Summary: The second chapter in the series following a man in the Independent's fleet during the unification war.
1. Chapter 1

OPENING SHOTS

Forest lay in his bunk, as the tannoy began sounded the eight bells, ending the day's dogs watch. The war was 3 days old, and so far neither side had done too much fighting. Jackson remained in orbit as the brass argued and mused over what their tactics and goals should be. A movement united only by their dislike of central control was finding it hard to agree on much else, while the alliance, who's aims were clear had started the war believing the boarder worlds couldn't possibly field an army, and so were knocked off guard by the sudden emergence of battalion order units in the boarder. Outnumbered and outgunned the federal garrisons on the outer planets and moons had quickly capitulated, leaving the alliance brass completely confounded.

As the last bells died away Forest began to rise from his bunk, he was required on bridge for the start of the first watch. He rubbed his tired eyes, as he pulled on his uniform and walked through the ship to the bridge where he would receive this watch's assignments.

The bridge was a hive of activity, the captain stood in the centre his hands clasped behind his back. Forest approached him and touched his hat, "reporting for duty sir," he said, watching the previous watch ensigns leaving the bridge, either towards the rec-rooms, or down to their bunks. As he'd assumed his watch was once again on the gun deck, his team had quickly asserted themselves as the best aboard the Jackson in reload and firing times, and while they had yet to fire a live shot, the ship seemed more at ease when they were on duty.

Once in the familiar gun deck there was very little to do but wait, drills had been cancelled for the time being so the guns would all be in a position of readiness in the event they were required. Suddenly a loud klaxon sounded throughout the ship, Forest had never heard this before, but he'd been told what it mean. The captain had ordered all hands to stations. The surrounding decks were a flurry of activity as gun teams assembled at their stations, preparing to meet any threat. It was followed by a whistle, signalling that the decks be cleared for action. This meant that action was likely so anything unnecessary be stowed so damage control teams, and replacement hands could move to parts of the ship they were needed. Forest peered out of the small window into the black, and that was all he could see, he wished he knew where, and what the threat was. The huge ship began to move, he could feel the sudden inertia as it shifted a hard turn to the port side, and beginning to edge slowly forwards, creeping into the dark. "LOAD GUNS AND RUN OUT!" the deck leftenant shouted, the deck burst into activity, the high explosive shells were carefully slide into the barrels of the guns, the firing mechanism primed and finally the guns pulled forwards into the airlock, clicking firmly into place.

"GUNS READY" Forest shouted, all over the deck he could hear other guns clicking into position and his fellow ensigns announcing their crews were ready for firing, he smiled a private smile, knowing he'd been ready first. Frantically staring out of the window he tried to find their target, then he saw it, at first he dismissed as stars, but as the ordered block of lights moved slowly forwards he realised it was a ship.

"15 POINTS OFF THE PORT SIDE!' the leftenant finally shouted, confirming what Forest had thought, and providing the other ensigns with the intended target. Running along his division he sighted down the barrel of each gun, trying to find the target through the tiny, reinforced glass window above each barrel, adjusting the declination and angle each gun to bring it to what was hopefully the correct position. "GUNS SIGHTED AND READY" he announced loudly. Again, his was the first station on deck to announce his readiness for action, but the remaining teams were quick to report in.

"ALL GUNS FIRE!" leftenant Blake shouted.

"CLEAR!" Forest yelled to his team, they stepped away from the gun as the ensign pulled the firing cord, the firing pin clicked and the gun erupted with a loud crash, as the barrel flew backwards into the gun room from the heavy recoil. With no time to spare he ran to the next gun, repeating his action, and as he moved from gun to gun his crew followed, reloading and pushing each gun back into its airlock, prepared again to fire. As he reached the end of his station the room was filled with the thick smoke of the propellant. Looking through the window he couldn't make out the small shells against the black of space, but he watched the ship, waiting for the impacts. He saw flashes of light all along the target ship; his heart skipped a beat, smiling as he watched the small explosions on the ship. But as he looked down at his watch his heart sank, his shells shouldn't impact for another 15 seconds, given the estimated range to target. Suddenly, it dawned on him _they were firing back_.

His eyes scoured the black, somewhere out there a whole broadside shot was hurtling towards his ship. Not long after he saw what he'd hoped, his own shells making contact. A series of huge explosions raked the side of the enemy ship. He couldn't know it from this distance but the ship had been ripped apart, a small alliance corvette was tiny compared to the Jackson, and his shells had ripped a series of holes from bow to stern, the tiny ship began to break up under the massive power of the detonations. But his glory was short lived. Although small, its shots could to a huge amount of damage, and they were still out there somewhere. He didn't have to wait long. A sudden, horrific crash reported the impact of the first shell, the whole ship shook with the power of detonation, through his window he could see the debris thrown into space by the hull breech, seconds later a second crash reported another hit. He couldn't see any evidence of the impact, but he knew it had done some damage.

The tannoy sounded the stand down order, the danger of further attacks had passed. Throughout the ship damage control teams were rushing to the impact zones. Forest and his team remained on the gun deck while the other teams were dismissed by the leftenant of the watch. Forest was still on watch, and would be till 8 bells. The rest of the watch ticked by slowly, the bells gradually sounding every half hour while his team cleaned and oiled their guns after action. Forest was curious, curious to know the extent of the damage to his own ship, but at the same time was beginning to feel a twang of guilt, shells he personally had fired had, most likely, ripped an alliance corvette apart, a crew of several hundred had been killed by his actions. "us of them" he told himself, those words cycling through his brain, the well rehearsed justification of soldiers since the dawn of warfare. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity the eight bells rang out throughout the ship. Forest dismissed his division, who quickly left the deck. He lingered for a moment, ensuring everything was locked down as it should be, when he was satisfied his work was complete he began the long walk back up to his berth.

No sooner had he entered the room, than a voice over the tannoy announced "pass the word for ensign Forest, Ensign Forest to the captain's quaters please". Wearily he closed his eyes and turned, walking up to the captain's cabin. He knocked on the door and was welcomed by Captain Whitehead. The captain looked stressed, since the attack he'd been busy directing engineers to try and limit the damage of the impacts. "Mr Forest, your deck leftenant told me some very interesting things about you during the action. You behaved in an exemplary manner for a man under fire for the first time" the captain offered his hand to Forest, who quickly took it, firmly shaking Whitehead's hand. He looked past the captain to the small mirror on the far wall, his face was covered in brown soot from the thick propellant smoke which had filled the tiny gun room. "Two impacts down the port side caused huge depressurizations, before we could control it three decks had blown out, its going to take several months to repair." Whitehead said, shaking his head with regret. "I've recommended you for transfer, you've learned incredibly quickly in your short time here, and proved your ability under fire today"

"With respect sir, you accepted my commission; I would be honoured to remain on Jackson"

"While that means a lot to me, your skills and youth could be put to better use on a frigate than a ship of this class. You'll have more chance of action, and promotion aboard a frigate, especially while we lay in for repairs" The captain handed him new commission papers, "you've been accepted to the frigate ISS Ewell, congratulations and good luck" Whitehead smiled, looking across at the young ensign. "Dismissed ensign, your shuttle leaves in two hours"


	2. Transfered

TRANSFERRED

Captain Pettigrew was a natural frigate commander. He was quick witted and sharp, and while this worked to put his crew at ease around him, it also made him a relentless frigate captain. His ship, the ISS Ewell was less that half the size of the Jackson, and had a much smaller armament. It was new, quickly laid down and constructed in the immediate aftermath of the declaration of war, and therefore was built with only war in mind, unlike the Jackson, who's true colours had had to be concealed beneath the mask of a large commercial freighter.

Forest lay in his bunk, he'd been on duty for the forenoon watch, and now was preparing to rest, the ship wouldn't need him again till the second dogs watch, so he had a full six and a half hours to rest. He couldn't though; occupying the ensign's berth with him was ensign Claire Peters. A few years his senior the young redhead had, like him joined as a few days before war broke out, but until Ewell had been complete had served as secretary to Admiral Hood at fleet command. She'd read reports of her fellow ensign's conduct under fire, and, like most was eager to know more. The brief exchange of fire between Jackson and the Alliance corvette had been, so far, the only shots fired by either fleet in the war. "It was only a small ship" he finally said, turning to face her, for the 18th time since he'd arrived she wanted to know more of the engagement, "it wasn't really that interesting, a small alliance scouting corvette, it didn't really stand too much chance against a battleship."

"But you must have been nervous, I mean, your first combat" she eagerly asked

"Well yes, but you don't have time to think about it, I had to do my duty" he replied, dryly, rolling over onto his back.

"And when the shots hit? You must have been really scared; I know I would have been"

"again you don't really think about it too much, I mean, if I could hear them, they hadn't hit me." He was being polite in truth he'd been terrified, deep inside. But he couldn't tell her. She'd know action soon enough and he didn't want to make her scared before it came. Sensing a strained tone in his voice she decided to give up asking for now, and an eerie silence descended over the berth, allowing him to rest himself.

The second dogs watch came all too soon, waking at 3 bells he had half an hour to prepare for his watch, pulling on his uniform he quickly drank a cup of the lukewarm coffee in the pot before leaving for the bridge.

"Reporting for duty sir" he said promptly, touching his hat to the captain. The bridge was quiet, the excitement of the start of the war had worn off, and the fleet was now down to 'business as usual'. Forest sat at the comms station he'd been assigned too, receiving reports and sending the captain's orders to different parts of the ship. "Prepare to get us underway" the captain finally spoke, once the new watch was settled in.

The lieutenant, stood at his left turned to the bridge crew, "Helm, 3 points to starboard, engines make speed 1 third forwards" he ordered as Forest relayed the new orders to the engineers. The change in engine tone was subtle but noticeable. The crew had grown used to the steady hum of the engine ticking over, but now, as she came to life the low growl became deeper. The inertia of the ship's movement was reduced by the new grav dampeners, and was hardly noticed, but the change in the ships voice told the crew she was under way.

"Captain I'm picking up a distress signal about 14 clicks ahead; it's an automated beacon sir." Ensign Peters turned to the captain.

"Identify?" he replied

"Friendly, its an escape pod from one of our ships"

"Deploy the ships and bring it into the bay, any sign of debris or a ship?"

"Non sir, but its thrusters are burnt out, its probably been out there for a day or more"

The tiny ship was pulled into the starboard landing bay by two of Ewell's scout ships. A black, egg-shaped craft scarcely big enough to house 3 men she'd been drifting in the black for several days. "Medical crew stand by" the captain ordered, the officers of the watch stood in the bay, preparing to open the pod. The door of the pod opened, and as it touched the metal floor of the hanger bay one of the occupants tentatively stepped out. Forest recognised the dirty, burnt face of the young man as he stepped down the stairs on to the deck. "Permission to come aboard?" he said croakily, attempting to salute, but wincing as he tried to raise his arm. The captain nodded and saluted back, gesturing to the medics to attend to him.

Two hours later, and looking much cleaner he stood in the captain's office. Captain Pettigrew, the lieutenant of the watch and Ensign Forest sat facing him. "Ensign Sawyer of the Jackson I believe" the captain finally said, looking at the wounded man before him, his head marked by a series of stitches and his right arm awkwardly strung in a sling. "Yes sir" he replied promptly.

"Please report, where is Jackson?" The captain asked "No distress calls, or signals have been received and you're not that far out of range"

"No sir, we'd been ordered to patrol the boarder, make s…sure no alliance cruisers attempted to sneak across" he stuttered, Forest shook his head, the dishevelled, broken man who stood before him was hardly recognisable as the eager, trigger happy ensign he'd left on the Jackson. "well we went, about 4 hours after arriving a cruiser approached, we didn't know where it came from, radiation from the nebula obscured our sensors, and it just came out of nowhere. We tried to fire back but it kept moving, we couldn't see it. It fired again, and again and again."

"Didn't you fire a distress call? A beacon?" the captain asked, cutting the ensign off.

"N..no sir, we didn't get chance, during the first volley the captain went down, I was stood with him, on the bridge. A shell hit, blew a relay board on the bridge, he was hold of the control panel at the time."

"Your captain killed, what of the first lieutenant? Surely he should have fired the distress beacons"

"Yes sir, he should have sir, but he'd been on the fire deck, on the port side, that got hit too" a tear ran down his face, recalling the attack, "70 men just vented into space, another few shots and the engines started to go, we'd got reports of hull breaches on most levels, fires throughout the ship, she was breaking up"

"Who ordered gave the abandon orders?"

"The third lieutenant sir. It was chaos in there, we all ran to the escape pods, all of us who could that is, we left so many wounded and dying behind. I was lucky, found a pod and launched, managed to get far enough away before the ship blew, a lot of pods, we could see them, caught in the blast." He was crying now, stood before the officers of the Ewell recalling the downfall of the mighty Jackson.


End file.
